It happened on a quiet evening—accidental, unexpected.

You were leaving a small gathering at your brother’s place. People drifted out through the front door, and as you stepped outside, someone caught your wrist.

Yaji.

His grip was gentle, but trembling. You turned, the porch light casting a warm glow over both of you.

“Can we talk?” he asked, voice unusually tight.

You hesitated. “Yaji… it’s late.”

“I know,” he breathed. “But I can’t keep pretending like this anymore.”

He swallowed hard, as if forcing himself not to look away.

“You’ve been different,” he continued softly. “And I know why. I know I caused it. I know I pushed you away. And I know I have no right to ask you for anything now.”

Your chest squeezed, but you said nothing.

Then he whispered, “He makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

Your breath hitched. “…Yes. He does.”

Yaji closed his eyes—just for a moment—but it was enough. The pain flashed across his face so clearly it broke your heart. But when he opened them again, there was something raw there, something unfiltered.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he murmured. “You were young. I didn’t want to hurt you or ruin what we had. I thought keeping my distance was protecting you.”

You felt yourself freeze.

“But every time you smiled at me,” he continued, voice shaking, “every time you looked at me like I was someone worth choosing—I didn’t realize what I was throwing away.”

Your breath shuddered. “Yaji… don’t.”

He stepped closer, desperate now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so damn sorry. I didn’t know how much I…” His voice cracked, the last word failing to form. “How much I cared. Until you weren’t mine to lose anymore.”

Your heart twisted painfully. “Yaji, you never wanted me.”

“That’s not true.” He said it so fast it stunned you.

“I wanted you,” he admitted, voice trembling. “God, I did. I wanted you more than I ever should’ve. But I told myself I didn’t. I convinced myself I wasn’t allowed to want you.”

He gently cupped your elbow, fearful, hesitant.

“I’m not too late… right?” His voice was barely a whisper. “Tell me I’m not too late.”

You pulled your arm back slowly. “Yaji… I moved on.”

He shook his head immediately, desperately.

“No. No, you didn’t.” His voice cracked. “You’re just trying to. You don’t love him the way you loved me.”

“Yaji—”

“I refuse to believe I lost you.” His chest rose and fell rapidly. “Not when I finally—finally—understand what losing you feels like.”

Tears welled in his eyes, but he blinked them away harshly, jaw tight with grief he could no longer hide.

“I’ll fight for you,” he whispered. “Even if I’m too late, I’ll fight. Because I can’t accept a life where someone else gets to hold you the way I threw the chance away.”

You stared at him, stunned, aching.

“Yaji… please don’t make this harder.”

He stepped back, breathing shakily, a painful smile twisting on his lips.

“It was always you,” he murmured. “I just realized it too late.”

You felt your own eyes sting.

“I can’t go back,” you whispered.

For the first time, Yaji broke. Really broke.

His breath shook, shoulders collapsing as he whispered, “Then tell me how to let you go. Because I don’t know how.”

The silence between you was heartbreaking, stretched thin by every unspoken memory and every regret he had buried for years.